Bleeding October
by s1ncer1ty
Summary: The roots of distrust run deep, spreading swiftly one chilly October night, even as Remus and Sirius both fight to protect the innocence of young Harry Potter.


"Bleeding October"   
by s1ncer1ty  


* A/N: Random speculation behind why, perhaps, Remus and Sirius suspected each other of being the spy in PoA. Slight slashiness, much angstiness. Flamers will be sacrificed to the more unsavory depths of the Floo Network. 

_the farther you run   
the more you recall   
the loss of your innocence   
after the fall   
-- october project _

---

The darkness was home to Remus Lupin, the cover of night and of shadows masking him as easily as a cloak of invisibility. He'd always been talented at eluding the spotlight, but now it was imperative that he did so. Who knew what was lurking in the streets where no one walked past a certain hour of the night, where the chilling sound of footsteps in pursuit might be the last sound one would hear, where even the Aurors spent their nights patrolling for Death Eaters in tight packs of three and four wizards at a time? Often, only one of such a pack would make it home alive, if any at all. 

He was used to the fear that stalked the dark streets each night, and he was used to slipping through the shadows just beyond the grasp of fear. His missions always required infinite secrecy, and often the greatest of danger in information gathering. Remus' most recent mission had followed fast on the heels of a Ministry of Magic inquiry, regarding four Ministry-tattoo'd lupines who hadn't arrived for their required weekly registry. And, with Voldemort gathering forces exponentially each day, the turning of four werewolves -- already on file for crimes committed against their own volition during a full moon -- might prove another tremendous setback in defeating the most dreadful wizard of all time. 

Slipping through the cover of shadow, Remus had been forced to take a detour to avoid a group of tense Aurors, who might easily fire off a killing spell first and ask questions later were he spotted. This back route took him well into the heart of town, through a darkened street where, guarded by tight wards that fended off both enemy wizards and Muggles alike, the Potters' flat stood. If need be, he could easily take refuge for the evening at the home of his greatest friend James, provided he take care not to disturb Lily or their three-month-old newborn, Harry -- for all it was worth, James and Lily still trusted him enough to leave him the key to the wards. 

But something was amiss this evening. A light in a downstairs living room that should have been darkened for safety. The scent of something unfamiliar, an unknown presence that Remus couldn't identify with his half-human nose. And then, as he slowly approached the two-story home, a piercing wail assaulted his ears -- a newborn child's cry, reverberating, terror-filled, and unrelenting. 

But oh, as Remus dashed up the front stairs and burst through the door to the domicile of James and Lily Potter, unexpected parents in a time when the great evil was out for their blood, he never, in any of his years on this earth, could ever have expected this. 

It wasn't the Potters that he encountered as he wove his wand to pass the electric wards and breathlessly threw open the door, nor was it a tremendous, snakelike evil invading their home and causing the child to wail as if he were slowly being tortured in the most painful way possible. 

No, that honor instead went to one Sirius Black, little Harry's godfather, who had the wailing baby propped against his hip as he danced around the room. If that weren't bad enough, Sirius was also singing -- in a voice that Remus swore was deliberately as off-key as he could manage -- in time with a "one-hit Muggle wonder" that played from a scratchy record player, magically floating midair so as not to skip at each lumbering dance step. 

Remus winced. No wonder Harry was crying so hard he was red in the face and steadily growing hoarser in voice. He didn't know what was worse, Sirius' singing or the tasteless Muggle music itself that filled the house. As he stared incredulously at his friend, dancing around the room, the phrase 'Don't bring me down' belted from his lips, Remus suspected that at least one house would, mercifully, be skipped over by Death Eater raids this evening. 

Closing the door behind him, Remus politely cleared his throat and tried not to smirk in bemusement as Sirius nearly leapt out of his skin. Part of it was the innate fear that someone unsavory had slipped past the tight wards placed around the house; but, for the most part, it was mortification at being caught in such a compromising state. In a single motion, he snatched the wand from the upper pocket of his robes and pointed it at the record player. Remus couldn't help but wince again at the hissing scratch as the needle tore across the Muggle record and echoed piercingly through the speakers. 

"Remus!" Sirius gasped, bouncing a red-faced, still-crying Harry upon his hip. "What are you _doing_ here?" 

"Saving this young boy from a fate worse than You-Know-Who," Remus responded mildly. He shook off his cloak and hung it upon a coat rack situated near the front door. "What _were_ you listening to?" 

"Aw, c'mon, Moony. A little Electric Light Orchestra never hurt anyone," said Sirius, a little begrudgingly. "Here, you take him for a moment. Make yourself useful, while you're here." 

Remus regarded the child, whose wails had quieted somewhat as soon as that horrid music was silenced, and crossed the room, arms outstretched. "Not to worry, Harry. I won't let mean old Uncle Padfoot torment you any longer." 

With a sigh of relief, Sirius heaved the baby into Remus' arms and fell back against the Potters' couch, raking a hand through his hair. "He's been crying almost nonstop for at least forty minutes. I've done everything I could -- played with him, fed him, rocked him, put him down to sleep. Nothing seems to be working!" 

Awkwardly, Remus cradled a squirming Harry in his arms, passing callused fingertips over the boy's rapidly darkening hair. Harry continued to sniffle, his pale-colored eyes still filled with tears, ready to brim over at any moment. With a free hand, Remus pulled back the baby's pajama bottoms and then looked to Sirius with both brows raised. "Tell me, Padfoot, did you think to change his diaper?" 

Sirius blinked, another priceless expression on his face that Remus wished he could save for posterity (or blackmail fodder, at a later date). "His diaper? But he isn't stinky..." 

Remus smiled beatifically. "He must not take after his godfather, then," he joked. "Seriously, where does Lily keep the diapers?" 

"Upstairs," said Sirius, pushing himself from the couch with effort. "Harry's room, next to the crib. Is it really that bad?" 

"I'd be crying, too, if I were in the same state as young Harry here." 

"It must hurt to be right all the time, doesn't it, Moony?" Sirius asked with a roll of his eyes, fighting back a sigh as Harry let out a fresh wail as he took him from Remus' arms and started up the stairs to the baby's room. 

"In this case, it does. Indeed it does." Remus smiled and, placing his hands in his pockets, followed quietly up the stairs at Sirius' heels. 

--- 

"Where are James and Lily, anyway?" Remus asked softly, watching as Sirius cleaned away the remnants of a massively messy diaper. For a child still fed only milk, it was indeed an amazing amount of messiness within. 

"Emergency meeting. Dumbledore needed to see them." Sirius' voice was clipped, offering no hint in his inflection that he would be willing to tell Remus any more beyond that.

"I see." 

"And you? Why are you here?" Sirius, who'd grown up with two younger sisters of his own, wrapped Harry in a fresh diaper with much greater ease than Remus himself -- an only child -- might ever have managed. Yes, best to focus on the past they'd each once had, opposed to the suspicion in Sirius' tone now. 

"Returning home from affairs of my own," said Remus. How he wished he could tell Sirius, but the mission required secrecy even to his best friends. Besides, with Dumbledore's hints that a spy might be among them, it was important that he not divulge all his necessary secrets to one who might use them against him and his friends in the future. 

"And you ended up here?" 

"I was passing by on the way to my home, when I heard crying." 

Sirius paled. "You heard Harry?" 

"I was worried," Remus said lightly. "I thought someone might be hurting him." 

"I was here. No one will ever hurt Harry while I'm here." Short, defensive, protective. 

"I didn't know that James and Lily would be gone." Sirius picked up a freshly changed Harry in his arms, a wry smile lighting upon his lips. 

"Yes, that's right. I'm sorry, Moony. It's just that with everything that's been going on lately --" 

"Not at all, Padfoot," Remus interjected, a little too quickly. "These are trying times for us all." 

Harry was all smiles again, and he clasped at his godfather's hair, taking in twin fistfuls of it. Sirius couldn't help but grin, even as he twisted from the baby's grip. "You know, at first, I couldn't believe James and Lily wanted to keep him when they found out she was pregnant. Now, I can't imagine what we'd do without him." 

"I know," Remus said quietly, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. "I can't help but wonder, though, if it was wise of them in the long run." 

"What do you mean?" Again, defensive, eyeing Remus up and down for a hint, anything, that might give him away. 

"Can we provide him the life he deserves? To run free, without fear?" 

"I don't know about you, but I intend to fight to make it that way." 

To Sirius, it might have been nothing more than the bravado of one fearful of what might be, of one afraid to show his entire hand lest he bear too much of his own soul; but to Remus, those words hurt more than Sirius might ever imagine. "I never said I planned to stop fighting. I'm sorry you think that way." 

Sirius was silent for a moment, and he rocked Harry on his hip to keep the infant occupied. "Oh, Moony, stop that. I know you -- you'd fight for our safety even if Harry weren't around." A quiet whisper, tinged with doubt: "Wouldn't you?" 

Remus nodded and shivered, running his hands across his forearms. It was only early October, but the wind that blew through the London suburb had already taken on the bite of winter. And while the wards at the Potter home kept out the worst of evil, they could not stop the chill of early frost, or of Sirius' reservations. 

"Listen, stay for tea. I'll put a fresh pot on. You look absolutely chilled to the bone." Sirius smiled tightly and turned so the dark-haired infant was facing Remus. "Harry here wouldn't want you catching cold." 

"Yes. Thank you, Sirius. And little Harry." He traced a fingertip down the boy's cheek, so soft and innocent. He fought back the urge to burst into tears as Harry grasped his fingertip and stuffed it into a widely grinning mouth. 

"Hey, stop that." Sirius pinched Harry's wrist and shoved Remus' finger from his mouth, perhaps a little roughly. He stared hard at the drool that covered Remus' fingertips, before the other man withdrew his hand to wipe it on the edge of his robe. 

Remus frowned at Sirius' retreating back as he carried Harry towards the stairs. "I'm not contagious, you know. I'm only dangerous on the full moon. Or have you forgotten? And even if I were dangerous now, Harry has no teeth with which to break my skin." His voice, though tinged with annoyance, maintained conversational level. 

"Now, none of that. I wasn't thinking about your lycanthropy," said Sirius dismissively. Avoiding Remus' eyes. Sirius could mask his lies to much of the world, but never to his closest friends. "I don't want my godson learning bad habits. Or getting ill." 

Remus sighed, following Sirius down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Padfoot, old friend, just for once, can we not fight? I'm tired. Truly worn out." It hadn't always been like this. He and Sirius had been friends once, close friends -- more than friends. Before the threat of Lord Voldemort had split them into fragments and scattered their lives and hearts -- and loyalties -- across all of England. 

"I don't know why we fight so much in the first place." Sirius murmured. A pause, and he quickly changed the subject, ever the master of distraction from uncomfortable matters. "Hey, check this out. This is funny." With a wicked grin, he gently poked a finger beneath Harry's ear and tickled. Harry let out a childish squeal of laughter and squirmed away from Sirius' touch. 

Remus couldn't help but smile. Yes, for now, the arguing between himself and Sirius would be forgotten. The inevitable could be delayed -- and mercifully so -- for a moment of watching at least one human being experience, in these dark times, a few fleeting seconds of true happiness. 

"Oh dear, is little Harry ticklish, like his godfather?" Remus murmured past a tight lump in his throat, through the saddest of smiles. And he reached out a finger of his own to tickle the other side of Harry's neck, fighting back the urge to howl pitifully at the bleeding October half-moon as it peeked through the nursery window to illuminate the squirming infant's ecstatic, scrunched face. 

--- 

Sirius never could brew a proper pot of tea, not the way Remus ever liked it, anyway. But, although weak and laced with more sugar than necessary, it was hot, and Remus was glad to have something to warm his fingers. He sat in silence, savoring the warmth, as Sirius played 'Quiddich' with Harry and the bottle of milk that the infant was refusing to drink. 

"Black's got the Quaffle," he said, as if acting as a sports commentator, circling the bottle randomly around Harry's head like a broomstick. "A narrow miss with a Bludger, as Black moves in to score!" He brought the bottle into a 'dive,' aiming to pop it into Harry's mouth, only to have the infant turn his head stubbornly and utter a squeal of displeasure. "And... oh! Blocked by Potter! I tell you, that boy makes a fine Keeper! Who'd have thought that the son of James Potter, greatest Seeker to have ever graduated from Hogwarts, would instead train with his great Uncle Moony to be but a piddly Keeper?" 

"Hey, a Keeper is as important a position as a Seeker," Remus laughed good-naturedly, taking a sip of the overly sweetened tea. 

"Ah, but a Keeper is no match for the best Chaser to have hit the Hogwarts circuit in his day!" 

"You mean Amos Diggory?" asked Remus mildly. 

"Er. Okay, second-best Chaser." 

Remus stifled another chuckle, sipping his tea, and raising a brow as, of their own accord, the candles placed about the kitchen dimmed, darkened to a deep shade of red. He set the mug down and looked across to Sirius, whose features had paled visibly against the stark lighting. "Padfoot, what is it?" 

"It's the ward!" Sirius whispered, his eyes widening, arms tightening around baby Harry, who simply squirmed as if it were some sort of game. "That's the signal -- there's someone outside..." 

Remus started from his chair and drew his slender rowan wand from an inner pocket within his robe. "You do have a back escape route, yes?" 

"Yes, of course." 

"Then take little Harry there. If anything gets through, I'll hold it off while you and the child escape." 

"Remus! I --" A mix of emotion clouded Sirius' face -- fear, protectiveness... full-fledged _doubt_. "I can't just leave you here." 

"You can, and you will." Remus spoke through clenched teeth. "Don't be so bloody stubborn. This is Harry's life we're talking about!" 

A shadow fluttered past the window, and, even though both men knew the magical wards around the house prevented any outsiders from seeing the movement within, they froze. A pair of silvery eyes could be glimpsed through the vertical blinds, assessing the kitchen's interior. Slowly, Sirius withdrew his own wand from his robe with his free hand, and he stood back-to-back with Remus. And when Harry began to fuss, Sirius gently touched his wand to the infant's lips and murmured a _Quietus_ charm, which only made the infant turn a brilliant shade of red as he wailed soundlessly. 

The sudden silence was almost deafening. After a while, Remus could hear nothing more than his and Sirius' harsh breathing, his heart hammering in his throat... and the murmur of steady incantations outside the window. Words Remus recognized as a counter-curse, as the intruders sought to undo the ward so carefully laid by James and Lily, with the assistance of Albus Dumbledore himself. 

"They can't see us," Sirius whispered. "We're protected against that. But if they break through..." 

Sirius didn't have to finish -- Remus knew all too well what would happen if the Death Eaters happened to break through. He'd seen the bodies -- or the remains of bodies -- of those who'd refused to join with darkness. And there were rumors of worse ways to die, much worse, particularly for the scant few remaining werewolves that would not turn to evil... And of traitors themselves, betrayed by the very evil force they'd given their lives and their once-good names to support... 

The silver-tinged eyes crawled over the kitchen only for another couple of minutes, but to Remus, it was as if time had all but stopped. Aeons of listening to the maddening beat of his heart, knowing that sinister forces were struggling to breach the ward. Ages of hearing the guttural, archaic language of dark magic forced past all-too-human throats, voices that weren't designed to speak such foul words. Sirius' back, tightly knotted as it pressed against his own; a glimpse of Harry, face knotted and crumpled as he struggled to cry, caught from the corner of his vision. 

It was an eternity of terror, before the icy flow of dark magic ceased, and the beads of silver peering through the kitchen window from the outside winked out into the blackness of night. 

And then, the candlelight flickered orange once again. The immediate danger had passed. The three guests in the Potter home were, for the time being, safe. 

Before Sirius could utter a single word, Remus rounded upon him, grey eyes flashing lividly. "Why didn't you take Harry and escape?" he hissed. 

For a moment, guilt flickered across Sirius' stormy expression, but this remorse was soon overtaken by a guarded defensiveness. "I didn't want to leave you alone." He couldn't look Remus in the eye as he spoke. "I couldn't let you face any Death Eaters by yourself." 

"Sirius, that boy's life is worth more than mine. You were a fool not to have taken him from danger." He stared, hard, at his friend, who refused to meet his gaze directly and shuffled his feet guiltily. No, Sirius was not speaking the complete truth. 

_What if the Death Eaters had broken through the ward? And you'd been here, with me... with Harry? Would you have handed us over to Voldemort, or simply left us both to die at his hand? _

Sirius let out a soft sigh and nodded, face pale. "Yes, I suppose you're right." He laughed once, a harsh noise that sounded almost like a sob. "Impetuous, as always. Look, Remus, I just..." He trailed off, brow furrowing as he struggled to find the proper words. 

"What is it?" His words were sharp, too sharp for his own liking. But did Sirius deserve any better, at this point? 

"Moony..." Sirius shifted uncomfortably and stared at his feet. "Thank you." 

The tightness in Remus' face eased, and he sagged against the doorway. "Thanks to you as well," he murmured, "for staying behind. Wise or not, I do appreciate it." A thin smile forced its way to his lips. "Just don't do it again." 

Sirius summoned a mirthless grin of his own. "Certainly, old friend. You're the expert at warding off dark magic, after all." 

His heart finally beginning to beat at a normal pace within his chest again, Remus sagged against the kitchen table with relief. It had been such a close call -- too close. Remus felt his knees giving way, and, single-handedly, Sirius caught him, helped him into chair before he could slither to the ground. Sirius placed his arm around Remus' shoulders, his own hands trembling, and they sat that way for a while, until Remus had gathered his wits enough to touch his wand to Harry's lips and murmur the counter-charm. And, drawing breath, Harry let out a brilliant, piercing wail, tears flooding his three-month-old cheeks, crying out the fear that neither Remus nor Sirius would ever bring themselves to acknowledge to each other. 

--- 

In the living room, Remus rocked Harry gently in the rocking chair, marveling at the dark-haired infant as he slowly fell asleep in his arms. Remus had managed to get Harry to take the bottle that he'd refused earlier in the evening. But even after the bottle had been emptied, Harry had continued to cry -- even he had felt the darkness that had fought to break into the guarded home, and Remus suspected that he wanted nothing more than the comfort of his mother. But slowly, finally, Harry's sobbing gave way to tiny whines, and the child succumbed to the sleep he'd been trying so hard to fight. 

"Should I take him?" Sirius whispered, turning his gaze from the dull fire that smouldered in the Potters' fireplace. Almost managing to smile, even. 

Remus shook his head. "No, please. I'd rather hold him for a short while longer." He ran his scarred, calloused fingers over the infant's hair, his yet-unbroken skin. Such a sweet child, such a risk. And with a possible spy in their midst, it was likely he'd become just another casualty. Just the thought of it made Remus' heart heavy, made him want to hold Harry closer, to hide him away from the world itself. 

Sirius settled back against the couch, his eyes locked onto the baby held in Remus' arms. Protective. It was a look he'd once reserved for Remus many years ago at Hogwarts, when he would recover from those horrific nights following the full moon, keeping vigil at the boy's bedside and staring down any who might disturb his peace. But those days were over now, and Sirius had a new ward to watch over. 

"I wish you'd tell me where you've been, Remus." Again, whispering. Imploring. 

Remus turned, and looked directly into Sirius' sad eyes. "You know I can't. No more than you're able to tell me." Rational, calm. But Remus knew that it wouldn't be enough for Sirius, no matter how rational he was. Idly, he wondered whose idea it was to divide and conquer the once tightly knit group of childhood friends. Had Dumbledore deliberately planted the seeds of doubt when he'd mentioned the prospect of a spy among them, feeding information to the other side? 

Sirius snorted. "I know. I've no intention of telling you where I've been, just as you have no intention of telling me where you've been." 

"I wish you'd simply trust that it's for the good of us all." 

"I suppose wishes just don't come true anymore," Sirius said with a sigh. 

Remus let out a soft, wry laugh, resting his cheek against the top of Harry's sleeping head. "I learned that long ago, my friend. But since when have you become so jaded?" 

"I don't know, Moony. I just don't know." He mirrored Remus' forced grin, and patted the cushion of the couch beside him. "Sit with me. Just for a little while. I think we could both use a little more warmth for tonight." 

_Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer._ Remus could hear Dumbledore's voice in his mind as clearly as if the old wizard were standing beside him. He gathered Harry carefully and shifted them both to the couch, where Sirius was waiting to gather him in his arms. 

It was, as Sirius had promised, warm. With Harry's gentle, cooing breaths in his arms and Sirius' head nestled against his own, Remus almost felt secure, and he was certainly very, very sleepy. It had been a long, long night, and he had so many more miles to go before he could sleep; but what harm would it do if he simply rested his eyes? After all, Sirius couldn't be the traitor -- he cared too much for James and Harry to ever give them away... didn't he? If only that twinge of doubt would stop eating away at the back of Remus' mind... 

"Sirius?" With sleep-weary eyes, Remus turned to look up at his friend, and was met with a tired, hazy grin in return. 

"Yeah?" 

"You'd have protected Harry and me had the Death Eaters truly managed to break the ward, wouldn't you?" 

The grin fell, and Remus felt cold fear steal deep into the reaches of his heart as Sirius hesitated. His mouth opened to speak, but Sirius simply couldn't seem to force the words out. 

"Sirius?" Sitting up, slowly, so as not to awaken Harry, Remus shrugged his friend's arm off his shoulders. 

"Yes!" His arm reached around Remus' shoulders once again, clutching him, pulling him close to his own chest. Sirius buried his face into Remus' hair and whispered desperately, "Gods, Moony, yes! Yes..." 

Remus wanted nothing more than to believe him. Yet, at the same time, he felt a maddening urge to clutch Harry tightly to his chest, immobilize Sirius with but a swoop of his wand and a muttered _Petrificus_ incantation, and run as fast as he could from the warded home along the outskirts of London. He'd hesitated. Sirius had _hesitated_. 

After a long, tense silence, Sirius cleared his throat uncomfortably and whispered against Remus' hair, "Listen, it's late. James and Lily will be getting home soon, I'm sure." 

Remus struggled to keep the coldness out of his voice, fought to remain as composed as ever. "Yes, I understand." Cradling baby Harry, whose chin was resting upon his shoulder, Remus stood, gingerly shook the numbness out of his legs. 

"Although... if you truly need a place to stay for the night --" 

"No, Sirius. But thank you. I probably should have been at my own home hours ago." He kissed Harry lightly on the top of his head and then handed him, limp as a rag doll, across to the man who had once been his best friend. Ever-trusting and innocent in sleep. Would Harry sleep so deeply if he were held by Lord Voldemort? Remus shuddered as he recalled the incident with Sirius from earlier in the evening. 

Remus snatched his cloak from the coat rack by the front door, fighting the tremble in his fingers as he fumbled with the pin that held the front of it together. He was running, as he always did, when faced with a truth he simply couldn't acknowledge. Running from himself, overtaken by his own pride. Even as he swiftly prepared to leave, he inwardly berated himself, for leaving Harry behind. He could have told Sirius he did, in fact, need a place to hide for the evening. That way, he could keep a watch over the Potters' infant son, protect him from harm and from Sirius himself. But Remus would have to trust -- after all, Sirius could easily have given both the infant Harry and a werewolf to Lord Voldemort at any point that evening. 

Gods, what was he doing? Was Harry to be the sacrifice to his own cowardly heart? 

"Moony?" Sirius' voice -- a choked, wrenching whisper -- pulled him from his thoughts.

Remus turned, then, mouth too dry to speak. 

"I've missed you." Sirius' eyes were pleading, his face too pale, arms too loosely clasped around the infant sound asleep upon his shoulder. 

But somehow, he found the words, forcing them past numbed lips, across his desert of a tongue. "And I you, my friend. And I you." 

And, before Sirius could utter another word, before he could give him any reason whatsoever to turn back, to run back into the arms of one who might well be a traitor to all of wizard-kind, Remus spun on his heel, cloak fluttering in the breeze, and closed the door as tightly as he could behind him. 

_...owari... _


End file.
